


Call of the Wild

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Families of Choice, Introspection, M/M, Predator/Prey, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some call Holmes a lone wolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call of the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Written for JWP #29: Picture of a wolf in snow.  
> Warnings: Nope, not a clue where this came from. Sorry. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a huge rush. You have been warned.

Lone wolf.  
  
I have heard the term used to describe me more than once, usually scornfully, occasionally in a more thoughtful, puzzled fashion, and once or twice as a mark of genuine respect.  Always, though, in reference to my nature, my refusal to join in with the Yard or my fellow students or some other group with whom they believe I have common cause.  
  
I am wise to avoid the company and companionship of those who call me so, for they are _idiots_ , ignorant and blind.  
  
For wolves do not hunt best alone. Wolves hunt best in _packs_ , with a dominant pair ruling over the lesser beasts. Others may come and go, but that pair is the core, the center, without whom there is no hunt, no life.  
  
I glance to my left. There he is, by my side, waiting patiently. Snow dusts the crown of his bowler hat, frosts the shoulders of his thick winter coat, but Watson ignores these things, intent on the hunt, as I am. Intent on _me_ , watching for a sign, a signal, his blue eyes steady and fierce and loyal beyond measure; a hunter and partner both as we stalk our chosen prey. I protect London, and he protects me, and together there is little we cannot do. Including hide in plain sight as an eccentric but brilliant detective and his utterly ordinary, long-suffering doctor, reduced by war, circumstances, and ill-advised friendship to rooming with a madman.  
  
There are a few others I tolerate, to greater or lesser degrees. None (save my brother Mycroft, who sees everything) know the full truth of Watson, and of me. What they do know, or suspect, they keep to themselves. And they follow my lead, for they too are wolves turned guardians, and know I am paramount.  
  
A faint shattering sound heralds the arrival of our quarry. A faint smile lifts the corners of Watson’s moustache as I nod. Then we are moving in unison, the hunt on, the chase underway. A whistle signals Lestrade and Clark and their men, spooking those we hunt, sending them fleeing straight towards where Watson and I are waiting for them.  Together we will bring them down, just as I planned. The Yard shall take them away.  
  
And then Watson and I will return to 221B, our home, one hunger sated, but many others still waiting, whetted by the night’s activities.  
  
Together, we shall _feast_ until all hungers are satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 29, 2015


End file.
